


Going Batty

by Canadian_BuckBeaver



Series: MacBeth AU [2]
Category: Underfell - Fandom, Undertail - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Undertail (Undertale), Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Drought, F/M, Harems, Kings & Queens, Middle Ages, No Smut, OC, References to Macbeth, Royalty, Singing, Soldiers, Tags Are Hard, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Vampire Papyrus, Vampires, royal guard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 02:19:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18436994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canadian_BuckBeaver/pseuds/Canadian_BuckBeaver
Summary: Lines lives on the farm with her entire family. All her life she works hard under a blistering sun, willing for crops to grow and money to be made.The last few years have been difficult.  Long, hard winters, and short, unforgiving summers.  No crops grow, and already winter is threatening to come again.In desperation, Lines agrees to try out for the Royal Harem.  The King is offering gold and riches for families to sell him their daughters.  But it isn't just the King's attention that she catches!





	Going Batty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [papao156](https://archiveofourown.org/users/papao156/gifts).



Times were tough.  Crops were withering and dying, and the wind was already cold.  Winter would be upon them soon and the farmers had nothing to show for it.  No food, no plants, little livestock.

It seemed to be only a matter of time before death would be whispering at their windows.  Everyday Lines and her family would go out to their fields, work the dust and what little plants there were, check the chickens and livestock, from sunup to sundown.  Always it was the same.  No wheat, no corn, no eggs, no milk, no tobacco.  No wheat meant no bread, no milk meant no butter.  No food to sell meant no money.  It seemed like there was only disappointment growing on their farm.

Lines’ grandmother lived with them, too old and too weak to work with them.  Her eyes were dim and clouded with age, her knuckles too large to be delicate.  Instead, she sat on the porch every day, knitting little blankets and muttering to herself.  It was a soothing sound, like how some things could not be taken from them or changed.  There would always be Grandma on the porch, knitting her little crafts.  That was until Lines heard what she was saying.  “ ** _A mí_** ** _la muerte me pela los dientes_** … especially with what it has done to this damn land.” She muttered in the old language, spitting over the railing, returning to her work.  It caused a chill to run up Lines’ spine at the words.  Was she saying that the kingdom was cursed?  There had been whispered rumours about the new king.  Some called him a parasite, others claimed him a real live Macbeth. 

The farm needed a break, something that would help the family survive until the rains returned, causing the plants to grow again.  But a break required money, and money only came with those who sold crops or food or goods.  None of which was being sold by her family currently.

It was a day unlike any other.  Lines was hunched over the fields, her fingers in the dry soil.  She was pulling what little weeds there were, stealing the moisture from the feeble crops.  A small, rickety wagon came up their little driveway, the man in front bounces as the wheels struck the holes in the road.  “Lines!” called a familiar voice.

Looking up, Lines smiled recognizing her sister who was waving at her.  Brushing the dust from her apron she rushed towards them, wrapping her sister in a large hug.  “I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered drily.  The wind and earth had already stolen the water from her throat.

“And I, you.” Lines smiled up at her older sister.  Married life seemed to be treating her well.  There was a soft glow around her, a small blush as she looked towards her new groom.  They made for a fabulous couple Lines had to admit.  “Is everyone else inside?  I’ve been wanting to visit.”

“I think so.  Mom was trying a new recipe for bread, dad was trying to fix something I think…” their father had been cursing some piece of leather or the like when Lines woke up.  Her sister smiled at her, taking her arm and leading her into the house.

* * * * *

The lunch was a sombre occasion.  When they had seen their eldest daughter, the parents had almost seemed disappointed.  Perhaps it was because there were two more mouths to feed?  A strain on the already strained food supplies?  Their mother had sighed loudly before looking at the time when they showed up.  “I suppose that you guys probably want to eat now.”  The bowls were almost aggressively set down with a loud thud by their mother.  Grandmother was already at the table fiddling with her knitting needles.  Their father had to be pulled from the living room to come and see them.  His main driving harness was broken, looked to be chewed apart by something with teeth.  More leather meant more money lost.

The six of them gathered around the table, silently eating their meal.  The more Lines watched, the more it seemed that her parents were avoiding looking at her sister and her husband.  They would talk when spoken to but, other than that, face another direction and whisper to one another.  Had something happened since the wedding?  They had seemed so pleased with her groom at first.  A market trader, he came from money and worked hard, kind and sweet.  A rare find these days.

But now they were acting like they had found out some terrible secret about him.

The husband looked around the table, seemingly feeling uncomfortable.  “The woods have struck again,” he said.  “Last week a farm girl was chased into the woods by a wolf while her family was distracted.  When they went out to find her, all they found was the smallest droplets of blood.  No body, and no bones,” Grandmother muttered something under her breath but their parents remained silent.  The husband continued with his tale.  “Apparently her father had already agreed to sell both her and her sister into the king’s harem but, with the elder sister missing, and her sister no longer eligible,” he coughed at this, “the king will be holding auditions in the town center to see the most talented and beautiful girls of the province…”

“That is all well and good but we only have one talented daughter.” Mother said sharply, finishing up her bite of stale bread, “and she is already married. Illegible for the harem.” Her voice dripped with venom.

Lines felt like her heart had been punctured at her words.  It was unfair.  She had two left feet when it came to dancing, much unlike her sister who danced like a goddess, and her parents couldn’t afford to buy them musical instruments, so of course Lines seemed to be nothing more than a cheap farmhand.  They had never heard her sing though.

She had made sure of that.

Mother’s words seemed to strike a cord with her sister as well.  Slamming her spoon down she glared at her parents.  “Is this what this… petty show was all about?  No wonder no plants grow here.  You know what the old sayings say about jealousy and anger leads to illness and death.”

“Don’t you dare-”

“You have no more hold on me. So I do dare.  We are equals now. Married couple to married couple.  I was your daughter, but I married and joined my husband’s family.  They haven’t encouraged me to go through the divorce process to leave him to be sold to the royal whorehouse.”

Her mother reached across the table and slapped her across the face.  “You have no right to talk to us like that!  We gave you everything when you were born!  Food, water and shelter.”

There was another resounding slap, and suddenly Line’s mother was cradling her cheek, a large red welt appearing.  Line’s sister and brother-in-law were standing, staring down at them with measurable disdain.  “I did not ask to be born into your family.  I had no choice in your matter then, but I do now.  As of now, I am no longer your daughter.  I am a wife and mother to my new family.  A family that we have already started creating.” She rubbed her belly tenderly, shielding it from the gaze of the rest of the family.  “We were coming here to share in the good news and tell you that we will be travelling in search of richer lands, of a place where we can settle down and start our own farm.  We were going to ask if you wished to join us, but I think that it is best that we go our separate ways.” Full of her dancer’s grace, she spun on her heel, walking away.  As she passed by Lines, her hand gently tousled her hair.  A familiar goodbye.

Following his wife, the brother-in-law dropped a couple of coppers and a gold piece onto the table.  “To pay you for your generous meal and kind hospitality,” he said.  Like he wasn’t talking to his extended family, but talking to an inn-keeper or chef.

The door to the front opened and closed behind them.  They heard the squeak of the wagons, the clopping of hooves as the two left.

Time paused as if in slow motion.  Lines knew that this was possibly the last time that she would ever see her sister again.  Her sister, and her unborn niece or nephew.

Lines wanted to chase after them, to beg them to take her with them.  To leave this land of death and corruption.  But she couldn’t move.  It was like she was tied to her seat, unable to use even the smallest muscle.  She watched as her mother got up from the table, small tears in her eyes, as she left the room.

Her father, silent as a stone, pocketed the coins.

* * * * *

The days passed slowly.  The wind had picked up but, instead of bringing clouds of rain, it brought the bite of cold.  It was only a matter of time before winter returned.

A couple days after the lunch with her sister, Lines came back into the farmhouse.  One of the goats was pregnant with her first kid and there seemed to be complications.  She had come in, looking for her father, when she heard him and her mother arguing.  Ducking behind a wall, Lines listened.   She knew that she shouldn’t overhear, but something told her to.

“You should have never accepted that boy’s money!  It was bad coin, and you know it!” Her mother was venomously spitting at her father.  Were they talking about the lunchtime incident?

“You and I both know that that isn’t the case.  The boy comes from a nice family, hard-working.  There is no bad blood between them or us.”

“If you hadn’t then we could-”

“Are you that desperate to sell someone to the king?  You really want me to go over to their house, somehow convince the lad that we made a mistake and that want our daughter back? Our now pregnant daughter back?  Even on the off chance that I did somehow do that, the king will have no interest in her.  She is considered used.”

There was cold silence.  “Maybe we could give the dowry back and pay the physician to…”

“You want to pay a doctor to kill our unborn grandchild. Do you hear yourself or are you just spitting whatever tidbit comes into your mind?  If you are so desperate for the king’s gold I’ll divorce you myself and sell you to him.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“And yet you want to sell our life and blood, our daughters.  I would advise you to take a good, hard, look in the mirror, my dear.  Because you aren’t indispensable.  At the end of the day, you are nothing but a woman, same as them. The difference is that, not only are you used longer and have bared children, you are old.  Old and saggy.  You know that you aren’t worth half as much as them.   Now shut up.  I will talk to Lines if she wishes to compete, but you must drop this nonsense against your other daughter.  Or I will talk to the priest.”

There was the sound of footsteps as her father marched out the door, slamming the door behind him.  Peeking around the corner, Lines saw her mother watching him.  Her long black hair was dull and tired, hanging limply down her back.  She made a disgusted sound, throwing a paper to the floor before following after her husband, her cheeks flushed with anger.

Lines was used to them fighting and arguing.  They had always teasingly fought in better times but now it seemed that the drought and winter were bringing out the worst in people.  Bending to grab the paper, Lines read it quickly.  Seemed the king was now holding an open talent show for all women and girls.  They would perform and, if lucky, they would have the chance to be sold into the harem.  It made sense to why her parents were arguing now.  Her sister was talented in dancing.  She would have wooed the king in an instant and the family would have received gold for her.  But Lines had no such talent.  She had two left feet at best, and her family couldn’t afford any musical instruments.  Yet she hadn’t shown them her voice yet.

It was a disgusting thought.  Gold to buy a human being, and store them away in a castle where only the rich and noble could see them.  So few could enjoy their gifts.  And then, to be part of the harem… Lines shuddered at the thought.  To be a sex slave.  What was the difference between a whore and a harem member?

And yet, the winners’ families would be paid in gold.

Gold that might help them survive.

She decided then. 

She would compete if only to help her family.

Her grandmother walked by, a limp in her step.  She seemed not to see Lines, or have heard the commotion between her son and his wife.  “You don’t have yet wings and already want to fly.  Wait, prepare yourself, be patient.” The elder woman seemingly whispered to herself. 

* * * * *

All during the ride into town, her father had been silent.  His eyes were like black stones, lost without their glitter.  The argument with her mother must have taken its toll on him.  Watching him out of the corner of her eye, Lines was more Determined than ever to win the competition.  If she was selected and bought, her family could afford to stop fighting and perhaps follow her sister out to the new province. And then…

The wagon hit a bump in the track, jolting her from her thoughts.  Blinking, she looked around.  They were almost in town but there were already so many carriages, so many people and monsters.  She felt her stomach twist into a knot as she watched the many faces pass by.  There were so many people.  How on Earth would she ever make the King notice her?  What if she failed and caused shame on her family?

“We can still turn around if you want,” her father whispered to her.  The first words that he said to her since the fight.

Lines took a deep, steeling breath.  “No.  No, I’m good.  I want to do this Papa.  I’m ready.”

Her father looked at her, appraising her before he returned his gaze to the donkey in front of him, motioning him to carry on.  The donkey’s hooves clacked on the pavement, pulling them smoothly to the town’s centre.  It was impossible to miss.  A large wooden stage had been set up to help showcase the girls.

And in front of the stage…

A large, ornate throne had been settled in front of it.  Lines felt her heart leap into her chest at the sight of it and knowing who will be sitting in it in a few precious moments.

“I need to park.  Get off here and go sign in.”  Her father said, nodding towards the desk.  There appeared to be a lizard monster acting as nurse.

There was no turning back now.  Lines nodded and, as gracefully as she could, started to climb down from the wagon.  Her foot caught the edge of her hem, causing her to stumble forward.  Face first.  Of course, here and now is where she would fall.  Her father gave a cry, and Lines closed her eyes, preparing for pain.

Time seemed to slow for her.

Without warning, an arm wrapped around her middle, stabilizing her and stopping her fall.  There was a gentle push back as she was assisted back to her feet.  Knees quaking, Lines looked up, intending to thank her rescuer.  A brilliant red eye, surrounded by the whitest of white, stared down at her.  Lines paused.

In a blink of an eye, the arm and eye were gone.  Like they were never there to begin with.

“Are you ok?” her father called out to her, leaning over the wagon.  He must have missed everything.  The eye, the assistance, everything.

“I’m fine.” Lines assured him, trying to smile at him.  Her cheeks were twitching though, her knees weak.

Her father shook his head.  “Be more careful.” He muttered before clucking to his animal and moving off.  Again, Lines took a deep breath to stabilize herself, brushing herself off before walking up to the nurse and giving her name.

The “talent” show seemed to be a complete disaster.  The king was late to the event so they were forced to wait for him, prolong the suffering.  Lines wanted to shake her head but knew that she was being watched.  Any sign of potential unrest would have her, and the rest of her family, lose their heads.  It wasn’t just the king though.  The girls were awful.  In retrospect, it seemed that the girls that were participating seemed to be those without much in the prospects of marriage.  In other words, those without much talent or whose families were desperate enough for coins.

Even the King seemed rather uninterested in them all.  He even rolled his eyes when the one girl had tripped over her own feet and into the musical help she had brought along.  Lines supposed that it was a good thing that the majority of these girls would be hidden away, their “talents” to never be seen again.

The only time she saw the King sit up and take notice was when a purple and red-haired girl came on stage.  The girl. Sai, was an exotic beauty, standing out amongst those with normal black or brown hair.  And when she sang…

It was like the voice of an angel.

Listening to her, Lines was both enchanted and devastated.  That voice was beautiful, a talent worthy of any hall, but it also meant that Lines had little to no chance of impressing the King now.  Her family would be hungry, her mother disappointed.

She barely heard her name when it was called.  Robotically she stepped forward, stopping in the middle of the stage, looking out at everyone.  She had to at least try.  Thinking of her family’s hungry faces from last winter, Lines took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and sang.

The words danced and dove through the air, spinning around and bringing life to the little town.  She could see her father watching her, his eyes wide with shock.  The other girls were watching her with envy on their faces.  The King too was watching her very carefully.  His brown eyes, brown as the thirsty earth, never moved from her body.  He stared at her, staring like one did freshly baked bread.  And still she sang.

The song was slowly drawing to an end.  Lines could feel herself beginning to tire.  Never before had she pushed her voice so punishingly.  She only had a little ways left to go.  She could do this.  She knew she could.

A familiar red eye flashed from amongst the crowd, disappearing in a wink.

Lines was startled, her voice stuttering before regaining the pitch again.  But it was too late.  The King turned away from her and shrugged, the townspeople that had been enraptured looked away. The song drew to a close and Lines hurried off the stage, rushing to see her father.  His eyes returned to their empty stare as he watched her approach.

Again, she had failed him, failed the family. Her grandmother had been right all along.

Disappointment, hot and hungry, clawed its way into her stomach.

* * * * *

Weeks passed by without news, or improvement.  The tension was also growing, threatening to spill over.  Her mother and father refused to talk to each other or remain in the same room.  Her grandmother waddled about, concentrating on her various tasks.

The farm was dying, there was no doubt about it now.  The last of the crops had died, wasting in the fields.  Even the chickens were refusing to lay their eggs.

And the goat had lost her kid.

Lines sat on her porch, hyperventilating.  The wind was cold and the clouds were a deep grey.  Snow was coming and there was nothing to show for it.  No food, no animals.  Nothing.  There was no way that they could survive this winter.  She should have gotten up and chased after her sister, pleading with her to take her.

Her family would have one last mouth to feed than.

Her grandmother was sitting, carefully embroidering a tissue as Lines panicked.  “Peace Child.  Do you think the fear could appease the God above?  You must remember to breathe.”

Lines wanted to snap at the old lady.  All she had done was enjoy the fruits of her family’s labour and her own hobbies.  She hadn’t been in the fields with them or suffering under a midday sun. 

Turning to say her piece, Lines was interrupted by the sounds of a carriage storming up the driveway.  The carriage was sleek and black, no sign of the dust or dirt that caked the earth.  Two white horses with pink feathers in their manes carried it, trotting smartly.

There was no mistaking them.  The Royal horses and carriage.  Complete with Royal Soldiers to drive them.

Her father stepped out of the house, hat in his hands.  “Can I help you?” he asked the men as they came closer.

One man, a man with a long, dark beard, stepped close to him, unfurling a roll of parchment.  “We come on behalf of the King, bearing the invitation for Lines Farmer, to join the Royal Majesty’s Royal Harem.” He decreed, rerolling the parchment and handing it to him.  “I believe that you will find everything that you require in there, sir.”

Her father scanned the document doubtfully, reading it carefully.  “We thought that she lost the competition,” he told them, at last lifting his eyes.

“She initially did.  However, the King is forgiving and willing to give her another chance.” The soldier said, his eyes slowly travelling over to Lines.  “But she must leave with us today for the deal to be accepted.”

Her father, Papa, had returned his gaze to the document in his hands.  Lines was peering at it as he reread it.  Her eyes were blurring but she saw a number.

And she saw how large the number was.  She saw her father hesitate.

She didn’t.  “Papa.  Take the money and then Mama and Grandma far away from here.  Follow my sister out.  Build a new life.” She gently kissed his cheek, hugging him.  He crushed her to him, his hold going on for too long.  He didn’t want to sell her, she knew.  She knew that he thought her worth than a mere whore in the harem.

But at the cost of a second chance at life.

“I love you, Papa.  Tell Mama, Grandma, and then my sister and niece or nephew when you see them,” she told him, squeezing him once more before stepping towards the carriage.

The sliders were not wasting time.  A soldier was assisting her into the carriage, helping get her comfortable and settled as two others pulled a large chest from the back of the carriage, placing it on the porch before settling into the carriage, their eyes on the road and sky.  The driver clucked to the horses and they were off, leaving her father in a cloud of dust, a chest of gold beside him.  His hand was still up, waving goodbye or reaching out towards her?  She would never know now.

Biting back her tears, she settled into the carriage, letting her eyes wander the outside.  The carriage was much smoother than her family’s old wagon, she noted.  She could hardly feel the bump of the road.

“I don’t get why they had so many of us collect one girl,” one of the soldiers muttered to another.  “She came on her own, unlike the one with the brown…” one bumped him to shush him, gesturing to Lines.  Warning him to be quiet.  “Oh come on, Peter.  You heard her accent.  She probably doesn’t understand our language.”  Lines decided that it would be for the best if she pretended not to understand them.  The more gossip and news she could hear, the better she would survive her transition.  Though she did hope that they stopped talking about the other girls.  It would be better she didn’t know about her new “sisters” until they were properly introduced.

“It wasn’t for the girl that so many of us were sent,” a wolf guard said.  “The winner of the contest, the one that the King really wanted, was supposedly kidnapped by a pair of wandering dragons.  Her brother witnessed them come down from the sky in a spray of rain and mist.  Since then, the King refused to have the rest of his prizes come by the same fate.”

The first soldier snorted at his remark.  “Dragons… what will they say next?  Werewolves kidnapping girls by moonlight?” he taunted.  “The family probably took the money and hid her away to ‘save’ her.  Or maybe the brother went mad and killed her.  You know how inbred those farm families are.  Everyone is a second cousin down there.”  Lines winced slightly at his words.  The soldiers were being loud and brash as always.

The others seemed to disagree with the one.  “How can you say that, John?” 

The soldier seemed not to care what the others, or Lines, thought of him.  “It takes a special kind of person to enter that kind of contest.  That contest was designed for those who wanted out of a certain situation, like breaking off marriage to your cousin.”

“That’s a disgusting way to think.”

John shrugged.  “That’s the way I see it.  It’s bad enough that they entered a contest with a chance to be a Royal Whore.  Though, I can’t imagine the shame of being the one who choked up and became the second choice.” He said, looking pointedly at Lines.

Lines wanted to attack him for his words.  She was sure that she was shaking in anger now or at least she was blushing with fury.  How dare this guard think that he was better than the hard-working farmers who grew his food?  Who raised the animals for his clothing?  Who-

The wolf’s nose moved and he jerked his head to the window.  “Something is coming,” he warned them, his hand moving towards his dagger.  His eyes were keen, darting everywhere for the source.

John, the dismissive one, snorted.  “Oh, come off it.  We are in the fastest carriage in the province.  There is no way that anything-”

A hand smashed through the glass of the carriage, seizing the offending guard by the throat, and pulling him from the vehicle.  Before his screams of fear and terror had faded into the distance, the door was pulled wide open, exposing the occupants to wind and dust…

And the immense cloud of bats.  The black, flying rodents, mulled about the carriage, blocking out the light and windows.  The world had descended into night as Lines watched.  Well, not quite endless night.

Two brightly glowing red eyes stared out through the mass.

A smaller guard, a jungle cat, stood in front of Lines, his own dagger drawn.  “Fear not, maiden, I will protect you with my life.” He swore to her, grabbing his small shield from his hip.

“Do not make promises that you have no way of keeping,” a deep voice chided him, the glowing eyes narrowing as he watched them.

The rest of the guards seized their weapons and attempted to charge the strange creature.  The carriage was far too small for combat.  Built for speed and not defence, the guards were effectively fighting each other as much as the invader.  Sword clashed with sword, dagger met dagger, sparks flying in the small room – the only source of light other than the red, glowing eyes.

It was like fighting water Lines noted.  The mass of bats would dodge and dive, dancing through the air effortlessly.  The bats were many and compacted, but the guards were unable to land a single blow.  The creature was toying with them. 

It seemed like at last his patience ran out.  There was a blur of movement and then a shrill scream.  A human guard sank to the ground, his throat cut.  Blood steadily dripping from the wound as the life left his eyes.  He sank to the ground, limp as a doll.

The next guard to fall was a lizard monster.  He had lunged at the mass, intending to stab the creature with a small, delicate sword.  The bats parted like the Red Sea from his steel but did not seem overly worried.  Lines just caught sight of a red glove between the masses of bats.  Was there something behind the bats?  Using them as a shield?  The lizard screamed, retreating from the bats as his sword dropped to the ground.

His hands still connected to it.

The lizard snarled through the pain, bearing his fangs and snapping at the bats that dared fly too close to him.  Trying to drive out the beast with his body alone.  For a moment, his plan seemed to be working, the bats retreating from the snapping teeth and venom that dripped from his jaws.  His honour and bravery were something to behold.

It wasn’t to last though.

Ruby red gloves seized the end of his bloody stumps and squeezed them, causing the guard to scream and stumble to the floor.  Lines could hear the sounds of bones cracking, slowly splintering in the beast’s grip, above the sound of the lizard screaming.  At last, the lizard passed out, his consciousness fading to prevent the body from going into further shock with his failing body.

There was a small jerk on his body before it too joined John’s on the road.

The wolf was already dead, Lines saw.  A guard’s dagger had been plunged deep into his chest, probably the result of the first few minutes of confusion. 

All that remained was Lines and the jungle cat guard.

The bats suddenly parted, allowing bright light to spill into the carriage.  Blinking, Lines stared at the beast that had invaded the carriage.  To her surprise, she saw a monster.  A tall skeleton stood in front of them, red eye lights sparking deep inside his skull as he stared at the two that remained.  Lines let her eyes slowly travel up his body.  The skeleton was tall, tall even for a monster, over six feet tall with the red high-heeled boots on.  A red scarf was pulled tight around his vertebrae, waving majestically in the wind, contrasting sharply with the black suit that the monster was wearing.  The skeleton’s mouth was full of sharpened teeth, interlocking like a wolf’s, but the two carnivores, the front fangs, were even longer than the rest.  Longer, thinner, and curved like those of a snake.

A vampire.

“Stay back!” The guard threatened him, his dagger outstretched, “if you come in closer, I’ll… I’ll…”

“I know that the dagger you are trying to threaten me with is not plated in silver as your king is too cheap to properly arm his guards,” the vampire lord sighed.  He reached out, grabbing the dagger from the guard’s grip, and bending it.  The metal curved into a pretzel, the cat’s stance dropping as he watched.

There was nothing more standing between them and the vampire.

“Do not worry, Jay,” The vampire told him, the curved fangs moving into almost a smile.  The dagger dropped to the ground with a small ting, and the skeleton pulled the guard towards him.  “I will not kill you this time.  I’ll entrust you as a messenger for your king.  Tell him that the land itself has rejected him as its king.  The rain refuses to fall for him, the crops refuse to grow for him.  The cure for this winter and drought is if the throne and crown are returned to the proper heir.”  The skeleton wiped the glove through the guard’s fur, staining it red.  “Tell him you fought a ferocious battle against the Lord Edge, one that ended with the death of your colleges.  Tell him you only survived thanks to my mercy.”

Lord Edge smiled at the guard before releasing him, letting Jay fall to the ground with a solid thud.  Those red eyes turned to Lines. 

“It is time to go, my dear,” the vampire said.  A bony hand seized her arm, pulling her towards him.  Lines stumbled over the fallen guard, falling into Edge’s chest and arms.

Bending to her, the vampire wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him.  Close enough to feel his warm breath on her neck, the slight graze of his teeth against her skin.  Despite the situation, Lines couldn’t help the small shiver that escaped her.  The curve of his bones almost felt familiar…

There was a loud rustling and the leathery snap of wings.  Bats surrounded the couple, flying around them in tight circles.  Flying faster and faster until they blurred together darkness.

“We are here,” Lord Edge said suddenly, waving his hand and the bats dissipating.  One hand was still wrapped tight around Lines, keeping her close to the vampire.  They stood in front of a large mansion, one made of marble and stone.  It had to bigger than the castle, and finer than anything she had ever seen before.

“Welcome to your new home,” he told her, his red eyes sparkling as he gazed at her.  “I have a feeling that you will love it here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully you enjoyed!


End file.
